


Or Something...

by GoodSmutarian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Fic!, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean is Not Amused, Dean is a Softie, F/M, Fingering and Eating Out, Gen, Hand Jobs, It's cool they don't mind sharing, Loving both Winchesters, Massages, Pregnancy Cravings, Pregnant Reader, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam is a Sweetheart, Sam just gets it, Sweet little Babybean, pregnancy symptoms, sweet smut, the boys totally indulge you, you are kind of in danger though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodSmutarian/pseuds/GoodSmutarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam stop an evil demon from attacking you (the reader) and demand that you come on the road with them until they can figure out why you are being targeted. Then they find out that you are newly pregnant...<br/>Protective! Winchesters and their struggle to fight, love, and protect</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's so hard to choose between brothers! I don't think the reader should have to... :)
> 
> Total crack and fluff. If even one person enjoys it, I'll be happy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What?" Dean narrows his eyes. "You got a baby shower to go to or something?"  
> Your crossed arms slide down to cradle the tiny bump on your belly. "Or something." You say softly.  
> Sam raises his eyebrows.  
> "Ah, shit." Dean curses.

Dean places a booted foot between the -for now- passed out man's shoulder blades. "You got any rope?" He asks you.

"Rope??"

"Yeah." He gestures widely with his hands. "Something to tie him up. Handcuffs, zip ties, anything?"

Your eyebrows come together when you realize he's serious. "Uh. No. I'm sorry. I left all that at the bdsm club. Don't like to bring work home with me. You know how it is."

Sam blinks. Dean's head snaps up, a grin starting to spread across his face.

"Oh for the love of. I'm kidding." You shrug and gesture to the pile on your couch. "I have yarn."

"Yarn." Sam repeats.

 You cross your arms and glare. "Yes. Yarn. I like to knit. Kiss my ass."

Sam holds his hands up defensively. 

Dean rolls his eyes. "Well, get us the strongest stuff you've got sister, so I can detain Demon Douchebag over here."

You hand him a thick hemp blend and Dean restrains the guy's wrists before throwing him over his shoulder. "So, you got like a-"

You point to a door down the hall. "Basement." You put your hands to your head and try to take deep breaths before once more looking at Sam. "What in the fresh hell is even happening here?"

You hear muffled thumps coming from your basement, and then what sounds like a spray can of paint being shaken.

Dean trudges back up the stairs before Sam has really given you an answer.

"Ok." Dean states. "Until we know why he came after you, you're comin with us."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, both at his words and at the entire situation. "Uh. No thanks."

An impatient look rolls across Dean's face. "You wanna help me out here, Sammy? We really don't have time for this."

Sam gently grips your elbow and guides you to the couch, sitting down next to you. "Look. I know this is scary, and crazy, and completely unbelievable, but we aren't going to hurt you. Dean's right, you'll be safer if you-"

"You don't understand." You say quickly. "I..." You lower your eyes.

Sam and Dean take in the little blue knitted sweater lying beside your leg.

"What?" Dean narrows his eyes. "You got a baby shower to go to or something?"

Your crossed arms slide down to cradle the tiny bump on your belly. "Or something." You say softly.

Sam raises his eyebrows.

"Ah, shit." Dean curses.

 

 

You squeeze your eyes shut as Dean takes you hard around another curve, driving the Impala like the demons of Hell were after him.

Well, okay, yeah, apparently they were. You would re-visit that idea in a moment. For now, you were clenching the seat and trying to keep your lunch down.

“Dean,” you grit out. “Slow down.”

You saw Sam grip the dashboard. “Seriously, Dean,” Sam says. “This is pretty fast and reckless, even for you.”

You breathe in as slowly as possible, trying to stave off another bout of nausea. “Oh, God.”

“You two think we’re on a joyride here?” Dean yells over the loud rock music blaring from the speakers. “They know where she lives! We need to get out while we can.”

Your stomach turns. “At least turn down the music! Oh, God.” You hunch forward, clutching your midsection.

“Music helps me drive.” Dean states as he peels the car around another curve.

Sam glances back at you, worry etched onto his face. “Dean, uh, you really, really might want to slow down.”

“What part of ‘demons want her ass’ are you not getting, Sammy?” Dean pressed down on the gas.

Bile was rising in your throat. “What part of if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to puke in your precious car, are _you_ not getting, Green Eyes?”

You clamp a hand over your mouth as Dean slams on the brakes. “Out,” he orders. “Out, right now, hurry up!”

You stumble out of the car and barely make it to the roadside shoulder before losing the contents of your stomach.

Man. Some parts of this pregnancy thing really sucked.

 

 

Two weeks after being stashed away with the Winchester brothers in one of Bobby’s safe houses, you had almost, almost, grasped the concept of thousands of supernatural beings roaming the earth.

And the concept of off-the-radar people like Sam and Dean, who made it their life’s work to hunt said creatures.

When there were quiet moments for you to wonder what might have happened to you, or heaven forbid, your baby, if Sam and Dean hadn’t showed up at your house that day, the fear that clogged your throat practically sent you into an anxiety attack every time.

It was better not to think about it.

Still though, you weren’t used to being unable to come and go as you pleased. You could understand the need for safety, but the quarantine was feeling a little ridiculous and incredibly suffocating. And you had always had some semblance of faith, you supposed, but when you met their honest to God angel friend Castiel, well, it made you wonder if you shouldn’t be destined for the nearest crazy house.

Not to mention the freaking cravings. Sam and Dean had stuck close to you and accepted-okay, more like forced- you into their little family arrangement, but you felt pretty awkward asking these guys to go pick up the ice cream flavor of the minute you constantly craved.

So you decide to just go by yourself while Dean took a shower and Sam was engrossed in some kind of research on his laptop. Grabbing Dean’s car keys, you silently made your way out the door.

 

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean snatched the car keys out of your hand and spins you around.

Your body deflated, disappointed at being caught. You knew it was a long shot, but still. "I'm going crazy, Dean. I need fresh air. And freedom. And a goddamn cheeseburger with a strawberry milkshake like right fucking now!" You started to shake from frustration.

"Yeah, well, think again, sister. One? No one drives my baby. And two?" Dean stuck his index finger in your face, then at your belly. "You and Babybean in there ain't goin nowhere without either me, Sam, or Cas going with you. And even then, you'll be lucky if I say it's okay. Capice?"

"Arg!" You threw up your hands and give Dean a light shove. "This sucks! I didn't ask for any of this! I...wait, did you just call my baby 'Baby Bean'?"

Dean paused. "Well. Yeah. I can’t imagine it’s much bigger than a jelly bean. You’re still so tiny. Plus, it rhymes with Dean." A boyish smile briefly lit up Dean's face. He shook his head rapidly. "Not the point! You. Babybean. Lockdown. You got it?"

You nodded, mouth slightly open at Dean's brief show of softness. "Yeah. I got it."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Good." He took a step back to let you walk in front of him back to the house.

You bit your lip, turning back to face him. "Dean?"

"What." 

You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You're a quick study, and you'd learned a lot from Sam. "Could you please, please go get me that cheeseburger?"

You saw him fighting to hide a smile, and you knew you'd convinced him when he pointed to your tummy. "You drive a hard bargain there, Babybean." 

Dean waited until you were back inside the house to get in the impala. 

Opening the front door again before he could leave, you yelled, "Don't forget the milkshake!"

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

That weekend, you were in your room in Bobby’s safe house, running your hands over the little blue knitted sweater that you had brought with you. You looked up when you heard a soft knock at your door.

“Hey,” Sam said softly.

You smiled at him. Sam’s manner was definitely calmer and softer than Dean’s, and between the pregnancy and the pseudo-kidnapping, he had been the easier brother to interact with. “Hey,” you responded.

He nodded towards the sweater. “So, you know that it’s a boy?”

You smiled and laid a hand over your barely protruding tummy. “Not officially, no. I won’t find out until about eighteen weeks or so.” _If you guys let me go to a hospital, that is._ You glanced back up at Sam. “I just. I just know.”

Sam didn’t give you a look, or raise his eyebrows, or laugh. He just nodded, his long fingers skimming the fabric of the little sweater. His mouth crinkled at the corners. “Soft.”

He looked at you, and you returned his smile and a long hidden, womanly part of you had to fight not to melt into those hazel eyes. “My mom taught me how to knit. I always enjoyed it and now with…” You glanced down at your stomach, “Well, _Babybean,_ I suppose-“ Sam chuckled- “it just seemed to make sense to make him something. Something special.”

Sam’s large body inched subtly closer, and instead of invading the peace you had been enjoying, it somehow added to it, kept you calm. His voice rumbled softly through your body. “It’s very special.”

You nodded, and swallowed back tears.

Sam’s large hand gently covered yours where it lay atop the knitted sweater. “Is your mom…?” he let the question trail off.

You shook your head, and a tear ran down your cheek. “No, she uh.” You wiped your eyes. “She died five years ago. My dad kind of went crazy overprotective for a few months after, seeing as how I’m an only child and all. Then he just slowly started to disappear, and he became this shell of a person. He didn’t seem to care anymore, and was miserable all the time. I moved out so I wouldn’t have to be around him. Isn’t that awful?”

Sam cocked his head in sympathy. “You do what you have to do. My mom died when I was a baby. Dean was only four. Our dad, well, let’s just say he changed too.” Sam looked in the direction of the kitchen. “Dean pretty much raised me. I can’t imagine losing a parent and going through it alone.”

You waved a hand. “I’ve never known any different. And anyway, it was kind of nice being able to call the shots for myself, you know? When my mom died, I kind of let loose and went through a late teenage rebellious phase, even though I was twenty. Ran around with some sketchy people, dated all the wrong guys. Dad was never paying enough attention to me to notice, too wrapped up in his own grief. I moved out, got my shit together, and that was pretty much that. He calls me from time to time, but it doesn’t mean much.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “It’s not like he forgot about me, per se, but that’s kind of how it felt, you know? Anyway, a few months back I kind of hit a rough patch again, and in a momentary lapse of sanity met back up with one of my exes. And, well.” You looked down at your tummy.

Sam scooted closer to you on the bed and laid a hand on your thigh. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, y/n.”

You shrugged. “Felt like I should admit it to somebody. Might as well be my kidnapper.”

Sam made a soft noise, and if you didn’t know better you thought you might have hurt his feelings. “Look, Dean and I, we just want to keep you safe.” It was Sam’s turn to talk to the wall. “We have let down a lot of people. A lot of people that maybe we could have-“ His throat worked, and when he looked at you again his eyes were wet. “What came after you was a demon. It had been cutting a path of death and destruction through your little town, and when it got to you, we got in its way. We don’t know if he will try again, but Dean and I are keeping you with us to make sure that if that happens, you aren’t alone. We are going to keep you safe.” He clasped your chin in his hand, turning it up so your face was in line with his, just inches apart. “You and the baby. No matter what. For as long as it takes.”

You hadn’t really cried much since losing your mom and brother, but at that moment alone in that room with Sam Winchester and his unashamed sympathy and concern, you broke down in his arms and cried yourself to sleep.

 

The next morning, you entered the kitchen around ten am, feeling refreshed after the best night’s sleep you’d had since discovering you were pregnant.

You looked at the two men sitting around the kitchen table sipping coffee, and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Morning.” You mumbled, suddenly embarrassed at your show of emotions the night before.

“Morning,” the brothers responded. Dean toasted you with his coffee and Sam gave you a soft smile. “What do you and Babybean feel like having for breakfast?” Dean asked. Just as quickly, he took in your still slightly swollen eyes. “Uh, if you’re hungry, I mean. Or if the baby is hungry. Or, you know.” He raked a hand down his face. “Shit.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, Dean.” You looked at Sam. “I feel fine. Really good, in fact.”

Sam returned your smile and rose from the table. “So, what will it be? Eggs? Pancakes? Waffles?” He started rummaging through the fridge, and you took a quick second to eye his butt in soft, worn jeans before closing your eyes. “Chinese food.” You breathed.

The boys paused. “Come again?”

You smiled. “Chinese food. Oh my God, you guys. Chicken lo mein.” You looked at Dean, who you knew would be the one to go get it. “With mustard. Those little packets of hot mustard, ohhhh.” You took the chair that Sam had deserted and your stomach rumbled. “Chicken lo mein with mustard.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned a questioning gaze on him. “Well? You asked me what I wanted!” You turned to Dean, using the magic word you held in your arsenal. “Babybean wants chicken lo mein with hot mustard.”  The more you thought about it, the better it sounded.

Dean sighed and grabbed the keys to the Impala. “Chinese for breakfast it is then.”

 

You tipped your head back into the gloriously powerful spray, the steamy water of your shower relaxing your muscles and soothing your soul. You smile, thinking of the day you had enjoyed with the boys, starting with Chinese food for breakfast, continuing with them showing you some of their well-loved books while filling you in on more of the supernatural world, their lives, and their family. Dean had made burgers for the three of you for dinner, and Sam insisted on doing the clean-up while scooting you towards a hot shower.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined anything like these two men that had come crashing into your home just as a demon was about to slice your throat. Their abrupt manner that first day had given you no clue that they would eventually act so sweet, so comfortable around you, so domestic. You thought of how long it had been- not since those first few days, really- since you had felt any sort of fear around Sam and Dean Winchester.

 

Ten minutes later, you heard a knock on your door as you stood in the room Sam and Dean had given you.  You yelled out for whoever it was to come in as you ran a comb through your wet hair.

The calm that you had felt during your shower wavered a little, and the hand holding your comb started to shake slightly.  Your bare toes peeking out from underneath your sweats curled tightly into the carpet, but you were sure Dean wouldn’t notice.

“Sam is brewing some tea. He wanted me to come ask if you would like some.” Dean stood in your doorway, and when those green eyes ran along your body, you felt a shiver that had nothing to do with your post-shower chill.

“Uh, sure, yeah. That would be great,” you responded. You continued to work the tangles out of your hair as Dean slowly came towards you.

“Hey,” he said softly. His big hand covered yours where it shook its way down your hair. “If you’re cold, you might want to put on something more than that,” he suggested, nodding towards your tank top.

You stepped away until the backs of your knees hit the bed, and you slowly sank down onto it. “I’m not cold, I…” Your gaze fixated on a piece of black lint on the carpet.

Dean moved his head down so he could look into your eyes. His hand lightly cupped your chin. “You okay?”

“Dean.” Somehow just saying his name helped to ground you. This man that you hadn’t known long, this man with the sweet, sensitive brother and the ability to keep you safe from dangers you hadn’t ever known…

This man made you feel safe. Secure. Protected.

Your face crumpled. “Dean.”

“Hey.” Dean sat beside you on the bed, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “What’s wrong? Babybean okay?” He made a motion like he wanted to touch your stomach but then thought better of it. “What’s wrong, pretty girl? I told you, you’re safe here. Me and Sammy gonna watch out for you.” There was that softness, that comfort that Sam seemed to offer all the time but that only came from Dean when you least expected it. As much as you hated to leave the umbrella of Dean’s warm strength, you shot up from the bed. “Safe from what, Dean? I don’t even know what’s after me!”

Dean pursed his lips. “We told you, we think the demon-“

“Yeah, path of destruction, attacked my town, I heard you guys.” You paced the room. “Forgive me if the thought of supernatural creatures still kind of sets me on edge.”

Dean rose to stand in front of you. He looked like he was trying to put the right words together, to search for some sort of explanation that might make sense to you, but after a moment all he did was gently take your hand and say, “Come on. One day at a time, alright?”

You let out a frustrated sound but you nodded, and let Dean lead you back into the kitchen to have tea with Sam.

 

Sam could make a kick-ass cup of tea, and somehow sitting in the cozy kitchen with the two boys, sipping a mug of soothing herbal blend helped calm you down.

Dean opted for whiskey over tea, and plopped down in the chair next to yours at the little wooden table just big enough for four. Sam sat across from you, his long legs stretched out in between yours and Dean’s underneath the table. 

“So,” Dean asked after swallowing a healthy gulp of alcohol. “What’s the story with the ex-boyfriend baby daddy?”

Sam kicked him under the table. “Dean!” Sam gave you a sheepish look. “Sorry, y/n.

“Wow,” you said, but you smiled. “You two don’t have any secrets, do you?”

“Yeah, or tact,” Sam said, pointedly looking at Dean.

Dean ignored the barb and poured himself some more whiskey. “Just trying to find out more about our little stowaway, Sam.”

You weren’t sure if Dean was referring to you or to the baby, and as you tried to puzzle it out he kept talking. “You haven’t mentioned him at all in the entire time you’ve been with us. You haven’t tried to call anyone with your location, or made any effort to get word to anyone that you are safe. I just find that a bit odd.” He lifted his booted feet onto the empty chair across from his, and swirled his whiskey casually. “This ex anyone we gotta worry about?”

You gave a humorless laugh and set down your mug. “Definitely not.”

“What makes you so sure?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I gotta tell ya, the last thing we need while trying to keep you safe and hunt down this demon is some guy trying to track you down and-“

You cut Dean off. “Trust me, that’s not going to happen.” You sighed, and told Dean the short version of what you had told Sam the night before, about losing your mom and in turn, your dad, albeit emotionally.

“What do your parents have to do with your ex?”

You traced a mindless pattern on the table with your fingertips. These men were protecting you from something that was clearly extremely dangerous, and even after this short time you had no doubt that if it came down to saving you and the baby, or saving themselves, you knew which sacrifice they would make.

Might as well go all in and tell the whole truth. “So, yeah. My dad is kind of, uh, rich.”

“Kind of rich,” Sam repeated slowly.

You nodded and huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, kind of like, stupidly, insanely rich.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Like vacation home, country club yuppie rich?”

You drummed your fingertips on the table. “Uh, more like three vacation homes, Italian villa, _owner_ of the country club kind of rich.” You cleared your throat.

Dean’s feet hit the floor with a loud thump as he sat up straight in his chair. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “So, right, this is going to come out wrong, but I mean, when we found you, you lived in a little apartment.” He quickly held up his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I mean, it was a nice apartment, but-“

“Not anything special.” You finished. “Yeah, I know.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Gotta tell ya, sweetheart, never really got the rich girl vibe from you.” He shook his head slowly. “And did I miss the part where this had anything to do with your ex?”

You stood up from the table and leaned back against the counter, wrapping your hands around your tea mug. “As little as my dad seems to care about what happens in my life now, apparently sometimes he still wants to try and control it.” You looked at Sam and Dean. “I found out a week before you guys showed up that he offered Mark –my old ex turned stupid one night stand- a cool two hundred and fifty grand to disappear and never contact me again.” You took a sip from your mug. “Ink was barely dry on the check before he cashed it, so.” You lifted a shoulder. “That’s why I say no need to worry about him.”

Sam and Dean looked at you in shock, and you really didn’t want to stick around to see the moment when shock turned into pity, so you set your cup down and quickly excused yourself and headed off to bed.

 

Later, after tucking yourself in bed and burying yourself in your blankets, you started quietly crying. Damn pregnancy hormones. You felt like you cried all the time now. And it wasn’t that you missed Mark – hell, good riddance. You were actually glad to be able to raise your baby on your own. But it just seemed that everyone in your life found it so easy to leave you. Your mom died, Mark disappeared without a second thought as soon as money was in his hands, your dad withdrew into himself and barely ever called…it was a wonder he cared enough to pay Mark off, although more than likely he just didn’t want anyone in his family to have anything to do with someone like that.

And when this was all over, when Sam and Dean found the demon they were after, then there would be nothing to keep them from leaving you too.

You tucked a hand around your tummy. At least you wouldn’t be completely alone. That thought gave you comfort, and you wiped away the last of your tears and were just about to fall asleep when you heard your door open.

You shifted under the blankets, a little bit startled.

“It’s okay,” you heard Sam say softly. “It’s just us.” Two figures moved towards opposite sides of your bed. “But if you’d rather be alone, we’d understand.”

You squinted at Sam, only able to make out his tall silhouette in the dark room. Rolling over slightly, you saw Dean standing on your other side.

A warm rush of emotion rushed through your body, and since you couldn’t quite speak, you just nodded and flipped back the covers. How they were both going to fit on your queen-sized bed with you, you had no clue, but damn you were glad they were there.

Dean slid into your bed and pulled you close, your face tucked against his chest, one arm settling over your waist. Sam pressed himself against your back, his arm sliding around you just underneath Dean’s. Their legs tangled with yours, and you let their strength and warmth completely envelop you, every other stupid thing in your world completely falling away.

Sam’s lips grazed your temple, and he whispered in your ear, “We don’t regret finding you. Or resent keeping you with us. Got that?” His long fingers grazed your tummy. “You and Babybean.”

You swallowed, hard, and couldn’t muster a response before you felt Dean nod. He pressed his forehead to yours and said softly, “No amount of money in the world would make that untrue.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and you let yourself drift, safe in your bed in their arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Babybean run into a bit of a scary complication. Luckily, the brothers are there to take care of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, and this is a work of fiction. I did do some minor research, but please forgive mistakes or allowances for fiction :)

Two months later, three into your safekeeping with the boys, the three of you were watching a movie, you and your twenty-one week baby bump settled in between Sam and Dean on the ridiculously comfy couch in the living room.

All of a sudden, you felt a small rush of wetness between your legs, and you startled.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean brushed his fingers along the back of your neck. 

You frowned, your stomach clenching slightly, whether from the wetness or sudden nervousness, you weren’t sure. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

Dean helped you lean forward and Sam braced a hand against your back as you stood up. You shuffled past Sam’s long legs and hurried into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

You undid your pants and sat down on the toilet, your heart beating quickly as you looked down.

And saw a small patch of blood on your panties.

“No,” you whispered.

 

You went to bed that night without returning to the couch, putting on your loosest sweats and a comfy tank top. You lay in bed with your legs clenched together, alternatively whispering to your baby and to a God you no longer believed in.

“Stay with me, please, I want you baby, stay, stay, please stay.”

You ignored the knocks on your door from the brothers, finally calling out to them when you were afraid Dean was about to break it down. “I’m fine, Dean! Sam, I promise! I’m just really tired, okay?” You held a fist to your mouth to keep them from hearing your sobs, and after three more hours of whispering and praying you fell into a restless sleep.

 

The next morning, you awoke with the sun. You felt a small flutter of movement in your belly, and as the memories from the night before came rushing back, your heart leapt at the feeling.

“Baby?” you whispered as you reached down a hand to cradle your tummy. “You in there, Babybean?” Another flutter and your eyes flooded with tears. “Oh, thank God. Thank you, thank you, oh, Babybean, you scared me, don’t ever-“

Your words cut off on a howl of pain as your stomach clenched hard underneath your hand. 

“Y/N!” You heard a fist hammering on your door, but the blood pounding through your ears was so loud that the knock was barely an echo in your clouded brain.

You gave a pained gasp as another cramp fisted low in your belly. “Dean,” you called out weakly. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His voice came strong through your closed door. “So help me, y/n, answer me right now or I will break this fucking door down!”

Another voice joined Dean’s. “Y/N? Baby, you okay?”

 _Sam_ , you wanted to cry out. But another wave of intense pain rolled over you, and you forced yourself to breathe just so you wouldn’t pass out.

“Get away from the door, sweetheart. We’re coming in.” Dean shouted.

Through the waves of pain you heard three muffled thumps, then the sound of wood crashing and splintering as Sam and Dean exploded into your room.

You were curled up in bed, doubled over from pain with your knees touching your pregnant belly, thighs clamped tightly together. Sam and Dean rushed to either side of you. “What’s wrong?” Dean’s voice was a low growl, worry tinging every deep note.

'De-Dean, ca-can’t breathe, hurts, _ahhhhh_ , Sam, please, help, can’t lose-“ you choked on the words and another stab of pain in your belly. “Hurts, Dean, my tummy hurts so bad…” Tears leaked out of your eyes and you could barely open them to look at Dean. Sam’s warm, strong hand settled onto your lower back, and you felt one second of sweet relief before pain gripped you again, making you cry out into Dean’s shirt.

“Dean. Car. Now. Hospital.” Dean was out of the room in the next heartbeat as Sam scooped you into his arms and carried you outside, where Dean and the Impala were impatiently waiting.

 

Sam and Dean had worn a hole into the crappy waiting room floor, waiting for someone to update them on your condition after you had been whisked away from them into the emergency room.

When a doctor finally came through the double doors, asking for the family of the ‘pregnant young girl,’ Dean practically ripped off the guy’s white lab coat.

Dr. Hayes had barely finished his brief explanation when Dean erupted, “What the _hell_ is placental abruption?”

Dr. Hayes took in the two tall, forbidding men pacing the waiting area who affirmed their connection to the girl, and answered him calmly. “It occurs when the placenta separates from the uterine wall before delivery.”

Two matching blank stares passed over Sam and Dean’s faces, not completely wiping away the concern. They exchanged glances, then looked back at the doctor.

"Uterine wall?” Dean repeated, his face twisting.

“Doc, please,” Sam stated in as gentle tone as he could. “We’re men. We don’t know what this stuff means.”

“It occurs sometimes after trauma to the body or abdomen. It can also occur from something entirely unknown. It’s a rare complication of pregnancy; we still don’t always know why it happens. What we do know is that it happens quite suddenly, and the symptoms are often immediate and severe.”

Dean swore. “We were watching a movie last night, and she all of a sudden got weird and went to bed.”

Sam nodded. “We woke up this morning hearing her cry out. She didn’t want to see us but we found her curled up in bed, barely able to tell us how much her stomach hurt.”

Dr. Hayes nodded. “Severe abdominal and lower back pain are common symptoms of placental abruption, as is vaginal bleeding.” Dr. Hayes raised an eyebrow. “Which I’m guessing she didn’t mention?” The two men shook their heads. “It may not have been as severe as her stomach pain. The good news is, I think you all caught it early. She appears to only have a mild case. If the internal bleeding can’t be controlled, it can lead to severe complications for the mother, and oxygen deprivation for the baby.”

Dean tensed. “Babybean can’t breathe?”

Sam shifted closer to his brother. “Doc, is she gonna be okay? Is the baby gonna be okay?”

“With the proper treatment, I have a very positive outlook.” Dr. Hayes held up a hand when Dean growled in frustration. “I understand your worry, and it’s nice that she has two men so concerned over her condition. Your girl will need a lot of care and attention throughout the rest of her pregnancy, especially over the next couple of weeks.” He raised an eyebrow, as if to prompt them to explain the situation.

They didn’t.

The doctor continued. “I want her to stay overnight so I can continue to monitor her condition, and if nothing changes you may take her home.”

Sam and Dean both visibly relaxed, but stayed attentive as Dr. Hayes continued, “Home, where she will remain on strict- and I mean zero exceptions, except to relieve herself- strict bedrest for the next week, and even then one of you should be with her when she is up at all times. The rest should relax her body and halt the abruption. If after that point, her abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding have subsided, she may become mobile again, but only mildly and I still want to make sure she gets plenty of rest. No unnecessary stress, got it?” Dr. Hayes pinned the boys with a grey-eyed stare.

“Got it,” Sam acknowledged.

“Yes, sir,” Dean agreed.

He injected his voice with some softness, but continued to look hard at the two men. Dr. Hayes wasn’t exactly getting a strong ‘father of the baby’ vibe from either one of them over the other, and even though their concern was palpable, he needed to make sure they understood the severity of the situation. “She’s a prime candidate for early delivery, boys. Take good care of her, make sure she eats right and takes her vitamins, for which I will be giving you a prescription because she hasn’t been taking any. And please, take any other symptoms she may tell you about very seriously. All three of you need to be prepared, and when that baby shows signs of coming, you haul ass back to me. Understood?”

Sam and Dean nodded again, and thanked him. “Can we see her?” Sam asked.

Dr. Hayes leveled them with another stare, thinking of his own daughter and the complications she had experienced during her own pregnancy.

The difference being, his daughter’s rat bastard of a boyfriend hadn’t been there past the two pink lines on a white stick. Dr. Alfred Hayes had seen many different situations in his thirty years of practice, and he knew true love and concern when he saw it.

He smiled inwardly. Even if the bearers of said true love and concern couldn’t see it yet. “She is resting. You may go in, I would say one at a time but I can tell that would give me more trouble than it’s worth. You may both see her, but stay calm and quiet. She will probably sleep through your visit, but I think the comfort may do her some good. Then you will both leave her room so she may get a goodnight’s sleep. You can come back at nine tomorrow morning.”

 

You never knew it, since you slept through it all, but when Sam and Dean entered your room after their conversation with your doctor, Sam gently picked up your hand in his and Dean pulled a chair up close to your bedside, his hand on the sheet right next to your upturned tummy, fingers barely grazing your belly through the thin hospital gown.

“Hey there, Babybean.” He whispered. “Latch back onto that wall, okay? Your mama needs you to get your shit together.”

Sam gave a watery chuckle, and swiped the hand that wasn’t holding yours across his eyes. “Yeah, we need you and your mama healthy.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “We’ll keep you safe, both of you. Promise. Just give us the chance, okay?”

Dean gently rubbed the side of your belly a few times with his fingertips, and Sam kissed your hand before putting it back down.

“Sleep tight, Babybean.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean take care of you while you're on bedrest. You've been living with them awhile now, and even though you can't move much, things are starting to heat up. Oh, and Dean is a handyman, and Sam is great at massages

You were halfway through your ten days of bedrest- the doctor had only said a week, but after seeing you lying weak and tired in that hospital bed, Sam and Dean had demanded ten days. Actually they had demanded two weeks, but you negotiated them down to the halfway compromise after threatening to key Dean’s car and dog-ear the shit out of Sam’s favorite books.

You were watching a movie with Sam, stretched out on the couch with your feet in his lap. Dean had spent the duration of the movie doing something in the bathroom outside your bedroom, banging and clanging around.

“What the hell is he doing in there?”

Sam shrugged and dug his fingers harder into the arch of your foot. “I have no clue. Probably some random home repair project. Dean has to work with his hands every couple days or he gets fidgety.” Sam’s attention remained fixed on the TV. “He’s becoming a real DIY-er since we’ve been laying low.”

Dean made a noise of triumph, and strutted into the living room. “Hey, pretty girl. Feel like taking a shower?”

Sam snorted and paused the movie. “Smooth, Dean.”

“Uh, I’m good, Dean, thanks.” Having to have one of the boys help you in and out of the shower so you wouldn’t jostle too much was bad enough. The fact that neither one allowed you to shower alone, for fear you would fall? Humiliating. Sure, whichever one hopped in the shower with you did so in swim trunks with their backs to you, giving you whatever privacy they could while you used them for stability, but still. Sam and Dean were tall, beautiful, sculpted with muscle. You were over twenty weeks pregnant. The scales of beauty and self-confidence were tipped in their favor, and thanks to your strict instructions to take it easy, your actions in the shower had to be slow and careful rather than quick and efficient. It wasn’t exactly something you looked forward to.

“No,” Dean shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. “I really think it’s time for you to take a nice, relaxing shower.”

You actually had been planning on asking Sam to help you after the movie, but something in Dean’s gaze made you play along. “Ohkaaaay…” Dean gently hauled you to your feet and walked you towards the bathroom. You could hear Sam following curiously behind.

Dean stood behind you, bracing your elbows as you shuffled into the bathroom. He reached around you to draw back the shower curtain, which revealed a long, horizontal metal bar, just above waist height in the shower.

“I know you hate having to shower with one of us, y/n.” Dean said gently. “This way you can have your privacy, without worry of falling in the shower.” You turned a teasing glare on him. “Okay,” he amended. “ _We_ won’t worry about you fallin’ in the shower.” He swallowed nervously. “What do you think?”

You turned so you were fully facing him and made a motion for him to bend down. He did, and you threw your arms around his neck. “I love it. Thank you. This is the sweetest, most considerate thing anyone has ever done for me.” You turned around to admire his handiwork again, Dean’s arms sliding around you to rest gently under your belly.

“Wow, Dean.” Sam ran his hand along the sturdy rail. “So this is what all that noise was.” He gripped the bar and tugged, testing its strength. “Impressive.” He winked at you. “Told you Dean liked working with his hands.”

You chuckled, then yelped when Dean slid said hands down to cup your ass. “Sammy, I _love_ workin’ with my hands.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m gonna run out and grab some things for dinner.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your shower, babe.”

“This is awesome, Dean.” You said when Sam left. “And Sam’s right, it’s really impressive. People in my family can’t fix shit. We always had to call people to fix stuff for us.”

Dean rolled his shoulders. “It’s no big deal. Besides, fixin’ shit and working with tools makes me feel manly.” He turned you in his arms, and you took in his proud grin.

You laughed. “Big strong manly man.” You slid a hand down to cup your tummy. “It will be cool for Babybean to have someone so capable to show him stuff like that.”

Dean froze, and stared at you. There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t read, and you backpedaled as fast as you could, trying to undo your mistake. “I’m sorry. Crap, Dean, I’m sorry. Of course you won’t be showing him- I mean, you won’t be around, I didn’t mean you’d be- crap.” Dean’s lack of response was making you nervous, and you wanted to smack yourself. Of course he wouldn’t be showing your kid how to use tools and build things. He wasn’t the kid’s dad.

Once the baby came and Sam and Dean got rid of the demon, they wouldn’t care about you anymore. You weren’t their responsibility, and you all had gotten close and were making the best of this whole quarantine situation, but you knew that’s all it was and you felt so stupid and presumptuous for saying anything. By the time your kid was old enough to be shown stuff like that, to learn things from other people, Sam and Dean would be nothing but a memory.

You’d already taken so much from the brothers, been such a burden. They hadn’t hunted or been on the road in weeks, and they spent so much time and energy taking care of you. How you could let loose with such a dumb reaction to a stupid metal bar…you couldn’t even blame it on the hormones. “I’m sorry, Dean. I know we aren’t your responsibility. I just got carried away and I spoke without thinking and-“

“Shut up.” Dean cut you off gruffly. You finally found the nerve to meet his eyes again, and realized that the emotion swimming there that you couldn’t place earlier wasn’t anger or irritation. Dean cupped your cheek and tilted your head towards his. “I would love to teach Babybean stuff like that.”

Your sigh was an audible sound of relief. “Really? Because Dean, I promise I didn’t-“

He laid a finger against your lips. “I am manly, and awesome, and cannot wait to teach Babybean my manly, awesome ways. Can’t have him growing up like Sam, eating rabbit food and brushing his pretty hair, can we?”

You weren’t sure what exactly made you fall in love with Dean in that exact moment- the way he talked about teaching your son, the way he teased and spoke of his little brother with such affection, the fact that he had installed a damn shower bar so you could maintain your privacy while living with these two men. It was all those things, it was everything, it was, it just _was,_ and you let your heart lift with the feeling of it. You hugged him with all the strength you had, and felt everything Dean didn’t say in the strong and loving way he held you back.

“Two rules, y/n.” Dean said sternly after a moment.

“Damn,” you sighed theatrically, glad that all earlier tension had dissipated. “I knew there’d be strings.”

Dean lightly pinched your butt. “One, Sam or I still help you in and out. Last thing we need is you tripping over the high shower rim. We can help you in and you can get naked after we leave, and put a towel on before we come in to help you out, but no trying to hike in or out on your own. Got it?”

“Got it,” you hummed in contentment against Dean’s chest. You were pretty content just to stay here in his arms, but a nice, long, _solitary_ shower sounded too good to pass up. You remembered Dean saying there were two rules. “And two?”

“Two,” Dean growled low in your ear. “After this baby comes, and you’ve got your strength back? Sweetheart, you and I are gonna test out that shower bar together.” He pushed you gently towards the shower, helped you step in, and was gone before your brain worked well enough to form a reply.

 

The bar was in fact quite sturdy, and you took your time in the shower, savoring the feeling of hot water and soap washing away the constant laze of bedrest. You were still fairly weak between the blood loss and inactivity, so you turned the water off before the heat could make you too dizzy. You drew back the shower curtain and grabbed the towel that was within close reach, wrapping it around your body before calling for Dean to help you out of the tub.

After his growly promise, there is nothing you wanted more than to eventually see what Dean would do if one of his ‘rules’ were to be broken. But you were tired, and Dean had been serious, and there was no way you would risk your baby’s safety.

But afterwards though…you smiled.

 

It was actually Sam that had entered the bathroom to help you, since Dean was outside taking a phone call. Sam had helped you to your room and left you alone to dress, but was now back and lying down with you in bed, your back to his front. Sam had been spending lots of time with you, not wanting you to be bored or feel neglected while relegated to bedrest. He was incredibly sweet, and you loved watching the interplay between him and Dean. They really balanced each other out, and you could see how they must work well together on hunts.

His strong hands worked your muscles, and as one of his thighs slotted itself behind yours, you wondered again how on earth you had gotten so lucky as to have met the Winchesters.

You moaned into his touch, his massage working to soothe your poor muscles, sore from pregnancy and disuse. “Sam, your hands feel so. Good.”

Sam traced his tongue along the shell of your ear, and you shivered. “That’s not all that would feel good, babygirl.” Heat flooded through you, and the huskiness in his voice was so reminiscent of Dean’s earlier growl that you heard the family resemblance.

Two hot, sexy brothers, who took care of and protected you, flirted with you, seemed to both want you…and the other wasn’t bothered? You shivered again as Sam’s hands danced down your back. Yeah. A girl could do worse.

You moaned again. “God, _Sam.”_

He laughed softly. “Sorry, babe. This is supposed to be about you. You’re just so beautiful, all warm and clean and sweet smelling after your shower. I love having my hands all over you.” He pulled himself back. “But this is strictly a massage. I don’t want you thinking that I do these things for you because I expect anything out of it.” You knew he was recalling your anxieties from that night all those weeks ago, when the brothers had first spent the night with you and told you they weren’t going anywhere.

“You’re so sweet to spend all this time with me.” You closed your eyes and twined your legs with his where they lay beneath the thin top sheet. You had on just a pair of sweats and a tank, and you loved that Sam pushed his hands up underneath your shirt to work your muscles skin on skin.

You heard the creak of your door opening, and your eyelids lifted languidly. The shower and Sam’s massage had you feeling incredibly relaxed, so your eyes fluttered closed again when Dean walked in. Your voice was slurred and lazy when you said, “Thank you again for the shower bar, Dean. It was so thoughtful.”

Dean waved off your thanks, but you could tell he was pleased. “Just trying to help. I ain’t a professional masseur like Sammy over there.”

The breath from Sam’s soft chuckle where he lay behind you breezed across your shoulder. The thumb of one of his hands was stationed just above your tailbone, keeping delicious, constant pressure on your aching lower back. The other hand was kneading your hip and the arch of your spine with gentle yet firm strokes. The massage felt incredible, and having Sam’s big strong hands on your body wasn’t exactly something you minded.

“You can join us, Dean.” Sam joked. “I’ll do you next.”

You giggled when Dean blushed. “You’d be smart to do it, Dean. Sam’s amazing at massages. And he’s like, the best cuddler ever.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean turned even redder when he realized what he had said without thinking. “I mean, uh-“

Your laugh turned into a soft moan when Sam ironed out a major knot just left of your spine. “Dean is a _huge_ cuddler,” Sam stage whispered into your ear.

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean growled.

You grinned and were about to make a teasing ‘aww’ sound when you noticed the tension strapping Dean’s shoulders, the locked way he held his jaw. The way he wouldn’t quite look at you.

“Dean,” you said softly. “It’s okay.”

"I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Dean said sharply. “ _You_ don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey,” Sam admonished quietly.

“I don’t need to know, Dean.” You continued. “Whatever it is that you _are_ talking about. I’m not judging.” Dean’s eyes looked at a spot over your shoulder, and you knew by the expression on his face he was looking at Sam.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. People find comfort wherever they can. Especially in a lifestyle like yours.” You thought of what these men really did for a living, the dangers they faced every day. There must have been some close calls, and when your life consisted of a constant dance between life or death, you figured that the feeling of true comfort would be a luxury. “Whatever release you-“

Dean sputtered. “Release?”

You smiled and said lightly, “I find Sam extremely comforting, so I wouldn’t blame you in the least if you did, too.”

Dean cut a hand through the air. “It’s not like…Christ. It’s not like we have sex or anything.” Dean stumbled through the words, spitting them out fast. “It’s just, sometimes, we maybe wake up in the same bed. That’s all.” He scowled when all you did was smile up at him. “Oh for the love of…” Dean rolled his eyes, but he walked over to the bed and bent down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. He turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sam called out.

“To fix the car. Or drink a beer and crush the can on my forehead. Maybe chop down a few trees with a huge ass chainsaw.” Dean yelled back. “I need something manly to erase this freakin’ chick flick scene you two made me just have.” Even from the bed you could hear him in the hallway muttering. “Cuddling. Jesus.”

You turned over so you were on your side facing Sam. “I hope I didn’t make him mad.”

Sam shook his head. “You didn’t. Actually,” he tightened his arms around you in a hug. “Thank you for saying what you did. It’s good for him to hear it.”

“I meant it, Sam.” You pulled back so you could look into his eyes. “You guys are putting a lot of things on hold for me. I don’t want you, or Dean, to feel like you have to hide that, too.”

Sam tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “We’re fine, y/n. We love having you around, and you haven’t interfered with anything. He’s just sensitive about it. It’s not like cuddling with your brother is something you go around shouting from the rooftops, especially when you’re a badass hunter with enough pride to fill a big rig.” Sam ran his hand down your side to cup your hip. “He’s not used to anyone knowing.”

“Well, I think it’s sweet.” Having Sam’s hands on your body for the last thirty minutes had taken their toll, and you moved your hips slightly forward to test Sam’s reaction as well. He answered by pressing his denim-clad fly into the soft fabric of your sweats, emitting a low moan. “Y/N…” he dragged out your name, his voice low.

You hadn’t done much with either Winchester besides kissing, light touching, and some dirty innuendo but you grew bold and your hand popped open the button of Sam’s jeans and lowered the zipper. You leaned forward to brush your mouth against his ear. “I think you are both just so-“ you palmed his erection through his briefs, “so,” he rocked his hips into your hand when you reached inside to pull out his hard cock, “Sweet.” You slid your thumb over the bead of precome leaking out of the tip of Sam’s dick, and rubbed it over the head.

Sam groaned, his fingers digging into your skin where he still held you tight. He had taken such good care of you from the start, but especially more so these last few days since you had been on bedrest. You were happy to return the favor, to see him be the one receiving the pleasure. You stroked your hand up and down his cock, and said sweetly, “Oh, and Sam?”

He hummed in response, his lower body thrusting up into your hand.

You licked along his neck, and pumped your hand faster along his impressive length. “I think you are _plenty_ manly too.”

Sam cried out as your hand and your words worked him towards his release, and you smiled when he sank further into the pillows, pulling you with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean helps you relax while you're on bedrest with some sweet, loving sexytimes

Three days. Three more days of boring, lonely bedrest. Then you could start moving around again, instead of being confined to your bed, or the couch.

And you loved Sam and Dean, you really did, but their hovering and coddling and strict adherence to the rules of that damn Doctor Hayes was driving you absolutely insane! How could doing nothing but lying in bed be so stressful?

“Dean,” you whined, when he entered your bedroom that afternoon. “I’m. So. Bored.” The boys both tried to spend time with you as much as they could, but come on. There was only so much lying around they could take.

Yeah. You knew the feeling.

You heard the faint click of the lock after Dean walked in. “Hey there, pretty girl.” He sauntered over to your bedside. “Thought you might want some company.”

“This sucks, Dean.” You knew you sounded whiny, but you were past caring. Shove the Winchesters into a bed for ten goddamn days straight, see how they liked it. “I feel so useless.”

Dean stripped off his shirt and stealthily crawled into bed next to you. “You’re nurturing a baby, y/n. Nothing useless about that.” He ran a hand down the length of your body, and you took a moment to look at Dean, really look.

His pupils were blown, his eyes roaming over your body along with his hand. His breath was louder than it should have been, and the nakedness of his torso- except for the amulet Sam had given him years ago- looked so sinfully delicious that you wanted to lean forward and lick his chest, taste that smooth salty skin for yourself.

And it quickly occurred to you that maybe you wouldn’t be so out of line if you did.

“Dean?” You asked tentatively.

“Shhh,” Dean’s lips ghosted across your temple. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show you how much fun lying in bed can be.” Dean’s hand skirted the waistband of your sweats, and your hips lifted into his touch.

“ _Dean_.” His name was a moan this time. Your eyes fluttered shut as he skimmed his hands all along your body; up your torso, over your sensitive breasts, down your arm. His fingertips grazed your lips, your collarbone, your nipples, your stomach.

“Yeah, pretty girl.” He hitched his hips against yours for a short moment of delicious friction, then pulled back. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he promised again.

Your breath was coming in frantic pants now, every nerve of your body tingling where Dean had touched you. You cupped his face and he leaned in for a kiss, his full lips softly pressing against yours, giving you a few chaste kisses before he ran his tongue along your lips, silently asking for you to open up for him. You did, and his tongue flooded your mouth, tangling so wet and hot and dirty with your own, while his hands continued their heated exploration of your body. He gentled his touch when he ran over your stomach, and seeing his large hands on your pregnant belly made your breath come faster, made your kisses more frantic.

“Dean. Dean, please, touch me, please.” He was touching you, but you needed more; more pressure, more contact, more _Dean_.

He chuckled against your neck, where he dropped open mouth kisses onto your skin. “Touch you where, baby.”

You moaned as one o his hands threaded through your hair, the other trailing along your spine. “There.” You grabbed a hand and guided it to your breast, arching up into his hand as he toyed with your nipple. “Here.” You hitched one of your legs over his hip, opening your thighs against his body. He oh so gently rolled you onto your back, and you took one of his hands down to the vee of your thighs. “And here… _oh!_ ” You cried out when Dean’s fingers gently brushed against your opening. “Yes, yes, there, Dean, please.”

He ran his fingers along your wet folds, smirking against your lips as he kissed you again. “You’re getting so wet for me, sweetheart. Is that from me? From my hands, my mouth?”

You nodded, whimpering, “And your voice, Dean. So sexy.”

Dean nipped his way along your neck, lavishing your breasts with attention, licking and sucking your nipples into his mouth. “You like my voice?” he rasped against your sensitive skin.

You fisted your hands into his hair, trying to keep your body still. “God, yes.”

He wrapped his lips around a nipple, flicking the other one between his fingers. “Like hearing it as I play with you?”

“Yes, yes, Dean, _yes._ ” You held him to your chest, relishing the feel of his mouth, his lips, his tongue. “Dean, please.” Your legs fell open around his strong thighs.

“You open up for me so pretty, y/n.” He made his way down your body, kissing your belly button. He sank down in between your thighs, and you sighed when you felt his lips brush across your inner thighs. “So, so pretty.”

You raised your head and braced yourself on your elbows just in time to see his head dip down in between your legs, only the top of his hair visible over your protruding belly as he licked a warm stripe up your center.

“Jesus, God, Dean!” His mouth was warm and wet against your entrance, and you could feel the roughness of his tongue against your clit as he ate you out.

He spread you open further with his fingers, giving himself a clear path to your pleasure. “You taste so sweet, y/n.”

No man had ever loved and worshipped you while going down on you like Dean Winchester. His lips and tongue felt amazing, but you wanted, needed, more.

“Dean, I want…please, feels so good, but I want.”

He lifted his head. “What, baby. What do you want.”

You groaned in frustration, trying to keep from bucking up into his mouth. His arm across your hips helped to keep you still, and yeah, sex while on bedrest was probably off the table, but you were so sensitive, so high, so fucking close. “Need you to be inside me. Don’t care how, just please, need you, Dean, _please.”_

“I gotcha, baby girl. I gotcha.”

And he did. Dean smoothly slid two fingers inside your aching channel, twerking them at just the right angle while his tongue continued to work your clit.

If it weren’t for Dean’s strong forearm holding you down, you would have arched off the bed completely. “Yes, Dean, right there, yes!”

Dean moved his fingers rapidly in and out of your body, while he tongued your clit and flicked it gently with his thumb. “Gonna come for me? Gonna come for me, pretty girl?”

Your hips pulsed against his hand and mouth with minute jerks, within the small range of movement his arm allowed.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. Gotta keep still. Gotta stay nice and still so you don’t shake Babybean.” Dean shot you a wicked grin. “Just let me do all the work, sweetheart. That’s it,” he encouraged when he saw your head dip back, “That’s it, let go, come on baby, fall apart for me, come for me.” He added a third finger and worked them furiously inside of you, pulling out wetly and jamming back in, sending your nerves soaring and your body singing.

“Dean, Dean, please, gonna come, gonna, yes, yes, right there, oh-“ You jerked up into his hand, coming all over his fingers as he watched you reach your release, his mouth half open, teeth raking over that sinfully full bottom lip.

Dean fumbled with the opening of his jeans with his other hand as he helped you finish. “Please, baby, please let me come on you, I’m so close seeing you come like that, please.” It was Dean’s turn to beg.

You bit your lip and nodded, watching him furiously stroke his erection, your heart swelling at the fact that you could make Dean this crazy just by letting him pleasure you. He found his rhythm and spoke in that sexy low rumble of his again.

“That’s it, baby, let go, that’s it, come for me.” Dean kept talking as you rode his hand through your aftershocks, soaking his hand and wrist.

Dean frantically stripped his own cock as he watched you come, and seconds later he joined you, shooting all over your belly and thighs, painting you with his pleasure the way you had drowned him in yours.

He sat back on his heels for a moment as he collected himself, then braced his body on the forearm of his come-soaked hand, the other one wrapping around your head to draw you to him for a kiss.

“Shit, baby.” His kiss was gentle, even though both of you were shaking. “Never felt so good without actually fucking.” You knew Dean well enough to know that he was being honest rather than crude, and you swallowed back tears at his tender words so as not to ruin the moment with your stupid hormones.

“Made me feel so good, Dean.” You tried to push all off your feelings for Dean into one kiss. “So good.”

Dean tipped your chin up, and only had to search your face for a moment to find his own feelings reflected there. He bent to kiss you again before settling you against his chest.

You smiled against his muscled torso, your lips curving against his skin. “Dean?”

Dean hummed. “Yeah baby.”

You pressed a kiss to his left pec. “I think I need another shower.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Ahhhhh, god. Come on, baby. Hang in there with me.” You groaned, cupping a hand around your tummy, gripping the kitchen counter as an odd pang coursed through your midsection. You rode the wave, and straightened back up just as Sam walked into the kitchen.

He saw you reaching up for a tea mug, and pressed his body up against yours to reach over your outstretched arm to grab it for you. “You okay, babe?” He set the mug on the counter in front of you and nuzzled your neck, settling his hands on your hips.

“Mmm, doing great now.” You leaned your head back against his chest, tea forgotten. Your eyes slid closed when his thumbs dug into your lower back. “Just a random cramp. It’s gone now.” You had been off bedrest for weeks, and your tummy was getting bigger and bigger the closer you got to delivering.  You were past ready to not be pregnant anymore, and to meet the sweet little baby that had taken to kicking your belly and bladder every ten minutes.

Like he did just now. “Sam!” you gasped.

“What? What?” Sam’s body tensed, sheltering your from all sides.

You grabbed his hand, and placed it on your rounded belly. “Feel.” The Winchesters had been taking turns leaving the safe house a lot more often lately, one of them staying behind with you while the other tracked down leads on the demon that you were hiding from. Dean was out right now, tracking down the latest intel from a fellow hunter in the area. Neither had ever seemed to be around or awake when Babybean kicked hard enough to feel, but now Sam was, and you just had to share it. “Feel that? That’s him!”

Sam panted out a breath of disbelief. “Oh my God.” He turned you to face him, keeping one hand on your baby bump. “Oh my God! Y/n! That’s your baby!” He looked down, and gently rubbed your belly. “Hey. Hey there, little guy. You sayin’ hello?”

And just like that, your heart dropped for Sam the way it had for Dean. You saw the genuine smile in his eyes, the glow of his face, the imprint of his dimples as he cupped his large, gentle hand around the child growing inside you, and you watched his face and bit your lip to keep the emotion from spilling over.

“Goddamn fucking sons of bitches!” Dean stormed into the house, his heavy booted footsteps headed for the kitchen. “Seriously, son of a fuc- what’s going on in here?”

“Dean!” Sam said giddily. He grabbed his brother’s hand and placed it on your tummy. “Shut up and pay attention.” You both watched Dean’s face go from confusion to wonder.

“Is that…is that him?” Dean looked at you, wide-eyed. “That’s our Babybean. Hey buddy.”

You nodded. “He’s been shy around you two lately. I’ve wanted you both to feel this for so long!” You covered Sam and Dean’s hands where they lay on your body. “You guys. That’s my baby. That’s my baby!” Your heart dipped a little at not being able to share this with any family, or friends, but it lifted when you saw these two grown men staring at your tummy in joyful wonder, looking at you like you had just done the most incredible thing in the world.

It didn’t matter. Because you were sharing this with your friends, your family. You were sharing it with Sam and Dean.

 

You should never have thought of it. Should never have thought of friends, or family, because just like that, like fucking clockwork, somehow those melancholy thoughts had conjured your father, of all people, out of freaking nowhere.

How. The hell. Did he find you?

You stared at your father in shock as he paced your kitchen. Sam was out on the demon’s trail, and Dean was in the shower.

“Private investigators. Round the clock searching. You weren’t easy to find, y/n, but I’ve been paying people top dollar to find my girl.” He took a disdainful look at your belly, and you cradled your midsection protectively under his gaze. “What the hell is this place? Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for a month!”

You barked out a harsh laugh. “For a month? I’ve been gone for a lot longer than that, Dad.” Angry tears filled your eyes. “Or did you just now notice that?” You heard the shower turn off, but you couldn’t help shouting.

Your father ignored you. “Why aren’t you at your apartment?” He waved away his own question as you heard the bathroom door open. “Nevermind. You need to come home. People are starting to ask questions, wondering why you haven’t shown up at the country club lately.” He turned. “Clearly I can’t have you showing up like that, but you are due in what, a week? Two? You will have the baby and we will craft a story. Something. I’ll have my team think on it. Then you will be in tip top shape to help me host my annual golf tournament in a couple months, and I will be able to brag about my new grandson.” He eyed you warily. “Or is it granddaughter?”

His words flew into your ears, swirling around inside your head to create a tornado of rage. “Grand. Son.” You gritted out. And you were due in four weeks, not that he would fucking know that. “That’s all that matters to you? Sweeping this under the rug so that we can host your golf tournament without a hitch?” Your fists clenched, and in your periphery you saw Dean come out of the bathroom dressed only in a pair of low slung jeans, his hair still wet from his shower.

Your father held out his hands. “Don’t get emotional on me, y/n. I came here to reason with you, to talk you into coming back home.”

Dean entered the kitchen, each step measured and careful. He came to stand between you and your father. “Sweetheart,” Dean asked with saccharine sweetness. “Who is our lovely guest?” Even though he knew.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I saw him through the peephole, and I was just so surprised, and I-“

“No problem.” Dean cut you off, giving your father a brilliant smile as he snaked an arm around your waist. “This is your place as much as ours. You let in whomever you want.” His body was as tense as yours as he looked first at your father then at you.

“Dean, this is my father, Ron. Dad, this is Dean. He’s been…” A small bit of the rage cleared, and you were feeling more grounded with Dean standing beside you. But you weren’t quite sure how to explain him. Dean studied your face for a moment, then gave your hip a squeeze. _You don’t owe him one damn thing, sweetheart._

Dean turned back to your father. “Dean Winchester. I’d say nice to meet you, but I gotta tell ya, Ron…” Dean gave him a theatrical look. “I just don’t take so kindly to people that abandon their loved ones in need. And my daddy taught me how to pull an expert poker face, but somehow I can’t even manage that.” Dean flashed Ron another fake smile. “So, you’ll forgive me when I ask you to, um, damn, what’s that phrase.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. Get the hell out of our house.”  He tugged you close against his side.

Ron sputtered. “What kind of trash are you hanging around now, y/n? You didn’t learn your lesson after Mark knocked you up?”

Dean growled and stood in front of you. “Tread carefully, _sir._ ” He mocked. “One would think you’d treat your own daughter with a little more respect than that. But if not, I’ll be damned if that’s the way I let you talk to the woman I love.”

You reached out and put a hand on Dean’s back, gently pushing him aside. “Dean. It’s okay.” You heard the front door open and close, and Sam’s brows knit together as he walked in on the scene unfolding in front of him. “Y/n?” Sam looked at you, then Dean. He slowly reached for the gun at the small of his back, but Dean shook his head. Sam flanked you on the opposite side of Dean, and put a gentle hand on your arm. “You okay, baby?”

“I don’t believe this,” Ron shook his head, backing against the counter. He looked at you. “Okay, y/n. You’ve made your point. You’ve had your fun. I don’t know what the hell kind of circus you’ve wrapped yourself up in this time, but you’re coming home. Now.” He snapped his fingers and headed towards the front door.

You didn’t move, and neither did Sam or Dean. The boys crossed their arms in front of their chests, and you stood in between them, one hand still curled over your tummy. “No,” you forced out.

“Excuse me?”

Dean took a step forward, but you stilled him. “I said, no. I’m not going with you. I’m staying with Sam and Dean.”

Ron raked his eyes over the youngest brother. “You would be Sam, I take it.”

You and Sam both ignored his question. “Dad, you stormed in here, into our home like it’s your God-given right, demanding that I come back, oh but not before making up some society-approved story, and help you host a goddamn fucking _golf tournament_. Like that’s the most important thing happening here.”

“You’re making a scene, y/n.” Ron scolded. “I’ve had enough of your theatrics. Say goodbye to Tweedledum and Tweedledee here, and let’s go. I am not going to tell you again.”

You kept talking. “You haven’t even asked how I am. Or how my baby is doing. He’s doing great, by the way. We had a little hiccup a while ago, and I was on bedrest for two weeks. But no big deal, we’re cool now.” Tears spilled down your face. “But that doesn’t really concern you, does it? As long as you have a healthy little boy to carry on your legacy and brag about to all your country club friends. As long as I show up looking pretty, shaking all the right hands and smiling at all the right people. Right, _daddy?”_ You didn’t even know this man anymore. You had learned in the last few months what the word family truly meant, and Ron wasn’t it.

Ron sighed, and reached into his pocket. “Okay. I can see what’s going on here.” He took out a checkbook and unscrewed his pen. “Y/n, I will take care of you. I’ll lower your trust fund age to twenty-three, instead of twenty-five. It’s yours to do with as you wish, two years sooner. Okay? As for you boys…” Ron glided the pen across the pad in his hand, then ripped off a piece of paper and thrust it at Dean. “This should more than compensate for your trouble.”

Dean took the piece of paper, and for one, split, terrifying second, your heart plummeted to your feet.

But no, no, Dean was nothing like Mark. He turned to his brother. “You want to do the honors, Sammy, or should I?”

Sam reached out and clasped your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You do it, Dean.”

Dean gave Ron another smile, and flashed you a wink. “With pleasure.” He pulled a lighter from his jeans pocket, and lit up the corner of the check, holding it between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand as the four of you watched it go up in flames. He shook the last bits of paper and ash onto Ron’s polished shoes. “That’s what you can do with your money, asshole. Now unless y/n asks you to stay, I will invite you to once again get the hell out of our house.”

Your father looked at you. “This is madness.”

You laughed, genuinely this time, and thought of the love you had for Sam and Dean. “I know!” You glanced at your father. “You can stay, dad. Be a part of my baby’s life, of my life. I’d love for him to know you.”

Ron shook his head in disbelief. “You are choosing these…these-“

“Careful.” You warned. “Be very careful what you say about Sam and Dean. Don’t burn any bridges that even you can’t afford to rebuild.” You met his eyes squarely.

But Ron just stared back. “I don’t believe this.” He snapped his mouth shut, and skimmed a hand over his perfectly groomed hair. “I cannot abide by this, y/n.”

You walked up to your father, and searched his eyes for the man he had been when your mom had still been alive, but all you saw was money and emptiness. “Goodbye, Dad. I’m happy. Not that you care, but for the first time since mom, I am really, truly, happy. Please don’t look for me again. Ever.” You stepped back, finding shelter in Sam’s arms. You looked at Dean. “Please, Dean.”

He nodded. Sam took you to your bedroom as Dean made sure your father left the house without ceremony.

 

“Oh God.” You lifted shaky hands to cup your face. Sam had left you alone for just a moment to see if Dean had needed assistance. “Oh God, oh, no, what did I do, what did I do?” You felt nauseous, your throat closing up tight. You just said a final goodbye to your father. What if Sam and Dean ended up leaving when they found the demon, and your father cut you off, and you just let go of the only other resource you had left? What if your worst fears came true, and Sam and Dean wanted nothing to do with you or Babybean once they finished their hunt?

You sank down onto the bed. You had felt so bold in the kitchen with the two Winchesters, finally faced with the man that had made you feel like some piece of street trash just because you made a mistake and had ended up pregnant. Like that was the worst thing in the world. It wasn’t. It wasn’t! You cradled your tummy. “It isn’t, Babybean. No matter what, I love you so much. And we will be fine. We’ll make it, just you and me, you’ll see, it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, baby.”

Sam and Dean quietly entered your room at the end of your pep talk. “Baby? You okay?”

You stood up, too fast if your spinning head was any indication. Sam and Dean were each at your side in a heartbeat, steadying you with strong hands at your elbows and your back. Words spilled out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry he came here, I’ll get my stuff, we will be okay, Babybean and I will leave, you won’t have to-“

“Babe.” Sam said.

“Sweetheart.” Dean said.

They lowered your back onto the bed, and their body heat pressed in on you from both sides as they closed ranks around you. Your head fell into your hands. “I’m sorry.” Embarrassment and guilt flooded your system, and you choked on the memory of the check that Ron had given Dean.

“Not your fault,” Sam said.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” Dean said.

You took in a shuddering breath, and asked, “How much?”

The boys were silent, and you could feel them exchanging gazes over your head, and somehow that made you angrier.

You rose from the bed, spun around, and screamed, “How much, Dean? How much money did you just light on fire?”

Dean looked at you, and spoke calmly. “Half a mill.”

You let out a strangled noise. “Twice as much,” you whispered.

The boys stared at you.

“As Mark,” you clarified. “Since I’m whoring around with two of you now.”

The boys stood up like a shot. “Knock it off, y/n,” Dean said furiously.

“Don’t talk like that!” Sam scolded.

“Why not?” You shouted. “That’s what I’m doing, isn’t it? I’m just a sl-“

“Don’t!” Dean growled sharply. “Don’t you dare finish that thought, y/n. I didn’t let your idiot father talk about you like that, damned if I’ll hear it from you.”

Your face crumpled. “You should have taken the money.” You buried your face in your hands and leaned against the wall.

Sam raced to your side. “Like hell we should have.” He picked you up, one arm under your knees, one behind your back, and brought you back to the bed, sitting up against the headboard with you in his lap. “Then we wouldn’t have you.”

“Or Babybean.” Dean settled in next to you and Sam. You felt Dean’s hand run through your hair.

“We meant what we said before, baby girl.” Sam kissed your temple, shifted you to lie down between him and Dean.

“No amount of money in the world,” Dean agreed. He pressed his lips to yours, kissing away the salty tears that coated them.

You sank into the sheets, letting their arms, legs, voices, love wash over you.

While you hoped it didn’t hurt anyone else, you couldn’t help but be thankful for the demon that had brought the Winchester brothers crashing through your door all those weeks ago.

 

You slept deeply, and when you woke up the next morning, sun was spilling through the window, coating a still sleeping Sam and Dean in liquid golden light as you gently stretched your arms up over your head. You smiled, and settled back into the sheets between your boys when a new wave of pain washed over you.

You breathed through it, slowly, calmly, and when it faded away you turned onto your side, intent on catching a bit more sleep.

When it happened again twenty minutes later, you tugged on the nearest muscled arm, not sure whose it was. “Sam. Dean.” You started breathing faster. “Wake up.”

“Baby?” Dean’s voice was deliciously gruff with sleep. Sam’s arm curled around you from behind, and his eyes shot open when you pulled away with a whimper. “Baby?” his voice echoed his brother’s.

“The baby,” you whispered, shutting your eyes as another wave hit you. “I think the baby’s coming.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babybean is born! You need to put a father's name on the birth certificate, and give this new little guy a name

"Okay honey, just need his name for the birth certificate." The nurse said, holding a clipboard.

It had been a long sixteen hours, but here you were, tired and sweaty, holding your brand new baby boy in your arms, Sam and Dean crouched down next to the hospital bed on either side of you.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat.

"She's having a hard time deciding," Sam explained.

You shook your head. "I know what to name him."

Sam and Dean looked at you. "Well?"

"Sean." You said decisively.

"Shawn," Dean echoed, testing out the name. He smiled. "I like it."

You returned his smile, and looked between the two brothers. "Yep. Spelled-"

"S-E-A-N." Sam finished, his eyes wide with wonder. He looked at Dean. "It's a name that's a mash-up of ours."

Dean inhaled sharply and turned wondrous eyes on you. "Sweetheart?"

You nodded, and your eyes filled. "You're the two most important people in my life." You gazed down at Baby Sean. "Well. Two out of three."

Sam wiped his eyes. "That's an amazing honor, y/n. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Our names," Dean whispered, still in awe.

"Your names. But with his own little sound." You ran your hand along Sean's tiny cheek.

The nurse smiled, distracting herself with checking various monitors while you had your moment with the boys.

When the three of you fell silent again, the nurse spoke again. "And what's your name, sweetie?" You spelled it out for her. "Okay, now I just need the name of the father."

Dean squeezed your hand, and Sam gently brushed your hair back from your face.

You looked at the nurse. "Would you please excuse us for a moment?"

She nodded, and set down the clipboard and backed out of the room. "I'll come back to check on you in a few minutes."

"Baby?" Dean prodded. “Are you gonna-“

You shook your head. "No." You said vehemently. Snow would fall in Hell before you named some bastard that cashed a check the father of your baby. "He does not get to have that. He does not get to _be_ that!" Tears that had moments before welled up in happiness now were fueled by anger.

"Hey, hey, it's okay,” Dean soothed.  “It's okay, pretty girl. You can just tell them to leave it blank for now."

No. Your baby needed a father. You _wanted_ him to have a father.  "Actually, I- I was hoping- I mean, I know you guys have already d-done so muh-much, and I have no right to ask such a th-thing, but I-" You broke off, crying too hard to finish your sentence. You angrily swiped the hand that wasn’t cradling Sean across your eyes.

It was a stupid idea anyway. You would just call the nurse back in, have her leave the space blank like Dean had said.

Sam quietly said Dean's name. You felt Dean shift to look at Sam but you missed their silent exchange, too focused on wiping away tear that had fallen onto Baby Sean's chin.

"Baby?" Sam said gently. "I think I know what you were gonna ask."

You sniffled. "Forget it."

"How could I ever forget a thing like that?" Sam pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Can't get much past Sam, baby girl. He's too quick." Dean said lightly.

You looked at Sam with hopeful eyes. "Sam?"

He nodded. "Yeah, baby. If Sean had a father with the last name Winchester, we would be doubly honored. Over the moon. I mean words couldn't-" Sam started to choke up. He cleared his throat. "It should be Dean."

Dean's head snapped up. "Sammy?" His brows came together, his mouth falling open. "You're the one who knew what she meant. You're the one with the massages and the pregnancy research and the little Baby Einstein books that I know you've already bought. Why-"

"Dean." Sam hushed his brother. "It should be you. You've been attached to Babybean since day one, and you're the one that originally found this case that turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to us. You did the food craving runs, took the brunt of the mood swings...you built the damn crib!" Sam watched his brother swallow past the lump in his throat. "And you were more like a father to me than anyone. You deserve the title for someone."

"Sammy, Jesus." Dean's voice broke, and he stood and turned away from both of you to take a moment to collect himself. When he faced you again, his eyes were wet. "This, I mean you...shit." He gave a watery laugh and started over. "This is what you want?"

You pressed the button for the nurse to come back. "I'd love for your name to be on my baby's birth certificate, Dean." You reached out a hand for him and he took it, as well as your invitation to sit beside you on the bed.

When the nurse returned, she took in the sight of you and Dean sitting together on your hospital bed, cradling Baby Sean together, and the corners of her mouth lifted. "Name of the baby's father?"

"Dean." You looked at him and smiled as you answered the nurse. "Dean Winchester."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love! I hope you enjoyed. I am hoping to someday add a timestamp but for now my loves I must close the door. Xoxox

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my original debuts at www.autumnmckayne.com  
> Twitter - @autumnmckayne


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